


Because I Was One of Them (And I Can't Shake the Past)

by PossiblyAwesomeAO3



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Former Dark Side Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, He's just a little baby, Logicality if you squint - Freeform, Manipulation, My First Work in This Fandom, Paranoia!Virgil, Patton is Concerned, a scared baby, but he gets interrupted, deceit blocks the dark sides, deceit gets to him first, deceit's just tired, i didn't intend for that to be the focus but hey don't let me rain on your parade, i guess you could read this as deceit/virgil if you wanted to???, logan saves him, of course it's gonna be an angsty one, patton has a panic attack, patton just wanted to bring him cookies, remus terrifies poor virgil, roman also doesn't like being interrupted, roman doesn't like talking about his Bro, roman is the dream master, sorry roman, tw for stuff remus does, virgil is unsure of himself, virgil's origin story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2020-06-25 23:59:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PossiblyAwesomeAO3/pseuds/PossiblyAwesomeAO3
Summary: "I will laugh at you. I will lie to you. I will hide you...inside the shadows." -Shadow Creature, Fran BowWhen Thomas' fears reach an all time high, a new Side comes into play. The Side is terrified, he's alone, and he only knows one thing. He has to protect Thomas.And then, a Side with a snake-face, silver words, and answers shows up right at his door and promises to help him.





	1. And Then, There Were Six

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the fic with the most cliche title in the entire world
> 
> so i'm new to the sanders sides fandom but i've absolutely fallen in love with both the show itself and the fandom, so me writing a fic was inevitable, especially when you consider that virgil's past is definitely a GOLD MINE of angst potential, and i love writing myself some angst, so...enjoy!!

One minute, there’s no one there. There’s just a swirling dark canvas, abstract fears and irrationality mixing together into a cacophony of worried thoughts and panic. 

And the next, the darkness constricts, and the boy is there, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and shivering like a leaf caught in a windstorm. 

His eyes fly open, wide and terrified, and his stare darts around the place as his mind quickly fills with questions.  _ Where am I? Who am I? Where is Thomas? _

Thomas. He remembers Thomas. 

The memory calms the building storm of nerves in the boy’s gut, and brings a sort of clarity to his spinning mind. Thomas. He needs to protect Thomas. That’s why he’s here, that’s his job. Thomas, the incredibly creative and thoughtful boy who tended to end up in tense situations that made his heart skip over several beats in all the wrong ways. 

The boy slowly sits up, and takes in his surroundings a little easier, now that he has the memory of Thomas to keep him grounded. It’s a small room, to the point where it’s barely bigger than a closet. The walls are painted a cold black, and it’s empty, aside from a few spiderwebs clinging to the corners. It’s familiar, in an odd way, and yet, in another way, it’s only heightening the dread building inside him. It’s far too small, far too dark, the walls could begin to close in, there could be spiders lurking in the corners, there could be anything in here at all with him, it’s so dark he can’t see his hands-- 

“Well, well, well. And what do we have here?”

He nearly jumps straight out of his skin and yelps, a strangled noise that sounds just as new as it feels -- he’s never had a voice before. He scrambles away from the other voice, and ends up slamming into a wall, bruising his shoulder. 

He whips around, his breathing unsteady and far too fast, and takes in the figure now standing in front of him. It’s a teenager, a teenager who’s glowing faintly, bathing the tiny room in a dim yellow light. He’s tall and imposing, and he towers over the boy on the ground. He’s wearing almost all black, just like the boy is, but his clothes are detailed in yellow -- yellow buttons, yellow trim on the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt, yellow lining the cut-off cape that’s draped over his shoulders, fastened with a golden chain. The teenager leans over, staring at the boy, and the boy gets the sickening feeling that he’s being inspected. The teenager has an unnerving smirk across his lips, but that’s not the only thing that’s making the boy horrifically uneasy. While one side of his face is normal, the other half of the teenager’s face is covered in small, golden-green scales, and his right eye is more akin to a snake’s than a human’s. 

“I knew I felt something new come into play, but I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be powerful enough to create a form.” Snake-Face says, and reaches towards the boy’s face. 

He jerks back before Snake-Face can touch him, and Snake-Face’s hand pulls back, just slightly. 

“Touchy, are we?”

“Where...where am I? Who are you?” The boy asks, and absolutely hates how shaky his voice sounds. Snake-Face is going to laugh at how weak he sounds, he’s going to leave him alone here, oh god, he’s going to hurt him -- 

“Who am I? Not one of the questions I’d expect from a brand new Side. Aren’t you more curious as to who you are?” Snake-Face asks. “I, for one, would love to discover that little tidbit.” 

The boy doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say, really. Yes, the boy is wondering who he’s supposed to be, but that’s being drowned out by the fact that he’s staring up at a stranger. Snake-Face sighs. 

“Very well, then. Have it your way. I am...well, you may call me Deceit, for now.”

“Deceit?” The boy asks, and his stomach tightens. He knows what deceit means, it means lies, it means treachery, it means  _ danger _ . 

Apparently, it shows on his face, because Deceit laughs. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, little one. You have nothing to fear from me. I’m just like you, after all. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“How...how do I know that’s not a lie?” The boy asks, and Deceit shrugs. 

“You don’t. That’s a little thing we call trust. And, if I were you, I’d put my trust in one who knows how to perceive lies, wouldn’t you say? Now, let’s get on to the main event.” Deceit crouches in front of him, putting himself just above the boy’s eye level. “Who, or, more accurately,  _ what _ exactly are you?” 

“I…” The boy’s heart jumps into his throat as he realizes he doesn’t have an answer for that question. He doesn’t know who or what he is. He doesn’t know how he got here. He only knows one thing. “I have to protect Thomas.”

“Mm. As we all do. But protect Thomas from what, exactly?” Deceit asks, looking over him with a kind of stare that the boy can only describe as invasive. He feels like he’s being inspected, like he’s nothing more than a simple puzzle to put together, and who knows? Maybe that is all he is. 

_ Protect Thomas from what?  _

“...everything.” 

The boy watches as the terrifying curiosity behind Deceit’s eyes turns to a strange kind of amusement. 

"Everything? Well, that's rather vague, wouldn't you say?" Deceit says. "There are many things out there in the world, after all. Protecting Thomas from all of them...quite a steep task you've put on your shoulders, boy." 

The boy pulls his knees closer to his chest as he turns that thought over in his mind. Deceit is right, it is an incredibly heavy task. There's so much out there that he has to protect Thomas from, like rejection and physical harm and embarrassment, and those things come in so many different forms, from schoolyard bullies to the phases Thomas has already passed through to that terrifying blip of a thought Thomas had so late last night, one that made Thomas' heart clench in a way it hadn't ever done before and what had brought the boy here in the first place, the world is big and frightening and so are the people in it and so many things within it could go wrong and Thomas could be hurt in so many ways --

"Well, I do believe that cinches it."

The boy snaps out of it as Deceit's voice slices straight through his thoughts and immediately quiets them. He stares at Deceit with wide eyes. Just a snap of the fingers, and the boy's thoughts were silenced. He could breathe again. How had Deceit done that?

"I know what you are. Can't believe it took me so long to figure it out." Deceit says, and the boy's heart rate picks up. 

"...you do?" 

"Why, of course. The signs were clear right from the beginning."

Deceit reaches his hand forward, and only now does the boy realize that Deceit's hands are gloved. He takes the boy's chin, and this time, the boy doesn't pull away. Deceit has answers. He has structure. And the boy, well...the boy is feeling desperate for something, anything that will give him a sense of who he is. 

"You, my dear young Side, are  _ Paranoia. _ " Deceit says, and in a split second, everything seems to click into place. It makes sense. Paranoia is the only word for all the dread and terror that’s sitting like a stone in the boy’s gut, making him feel nauseous. The boy stares up at Deceit, and after a few seconds, slowly nods. 

“I’m Paranoia.” He repeats, and almost as if on cue, a dim glow begins to emit from his body, blacklight mingling with the faint yellow that Deceit’s giving off. Deceit smiles, and lets go of his chin. 

“Feels right, does it?” Deceit asks. “I’m surprised, however. I didn’t think Thomas’ fears would be strong enough to manifest into a Side.” 

Now that his head is cleared from the initial confusion over who he is, Paranoia catches that word again. Side. He’s never heard that word before, at least, not in this context, and yet, something within him knows what it means. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he can feel it in his very core. He’s a Side. He’s a piece of Thomas, he’s always been a piece of Thomas, and his job is to protect him over everything else. Thomas takes first priority, that’s the job of a Side. 

“I can be strong.” Paranoia says, although, he supposes the small tremor in his hands makes that hard to believe. “I can keep Thomas out of danger. I’ve done it before, I can do it now.” 

“You certainly can.” Deceit says. “And I, for one, think we’d make an excellent team.” 

... _ team _ ? 

“Well, just  _ what _ do we have here?” 

Paranoia can’t help it, he shrieks as another Side suddenly pops into existence next to him and yells out his greeting with absolutely no warning. Paranoia scrambles to the corner and hides his face as his heart rate skyrockets. 

Just as he was starting to get that under control. 

Even with his face hidden behind his hands, he can still tell when the yellow light in his room suddenly brightens. 

“ _ What _ did I tell you about popping in here?” Deceit’s voice speaks, but it’s different than before. When he spoke to Paranoia, Deceit’s voice was carefully controlled, but now, it’s dangerously calm. It makes the hairs on the back of Paranoia’s neck stand on end as he gets the sudden sense that Deceit could become a very dangerous being if Paranoia ever dared to step out of line. 

Paranoia carefully peeks through his fingers to get a better look at the new side. He’s dressed like a hellish sort of prince, in all black like the both of them, but with bright green glittery accents. He looks to be no older than Deceit, but he has a gray streak in his hair, and the beginnings of a mustache on his upper lip. There’s a terrifying wild look to the Side’s eyes, and he wears a twisted grin across his face that’s even more sinister given that he’s staring down an obviously irritated Deceit. 

“Come on, Deceit, you know how I can’t resist showing up where I’m not wanted!” The Side says, and turns to look directly at Paranoia, who immediately tenses as his thoughts start to kick in. 

_ Oh, God, he’s looking right at me, he’s staring, I don’t want him looking at me, I don’t want anyone looking at me-- _

“Let’s try this again, shall we? So, who exactly are you?” The Side asks, and advances on him so fast that Paranoia yelps. The Side is right in his face and doesn’t seem to care, the twisted grin on his face only growing wider. “How ‘bout it? You seem pretty skittish to me! Say, have you ever considered that flies could be laying eggs in your skin?”

Paranoia’s eyes widen, and for a moment, it feels like he can’t breathe as the Side’s words seem to penetrate his mind and take root there, forcing him to imagine things that make him feel even more nauseous than before. How is he  _ doing _ that, how can Paranoia get him to  _ stop _ ?

“ _ Remus _ \--” Deceit says, clearly a warning, but the Side, Remus, continues. 

“And then all those little eggs hatch and you have maggots crawling out of your arms? Ooh, what about taking an ax to Thomas’ friends’ necks? That could be fun! Watching their bones split and blood goes  _ everywhere _ and the light just leaves their eyes so slowly--” 

Paranoia squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as he can and covers his ears, but Remus doesn’t seem to care, and it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Remus’ voice is still easily ringing through Paranoia’s head, too loud, too loud,  _ too loud _ \--

“Hey, you know that boy from Thomas’ class that sits in the back? The one with the swoopy hair and the pretty eyes? What if we made Thomas get up one day, right as everyone was watching, and--”

“ **_STOP IT!_ ** ” Paranoia screams, but something’s different. His voice overlaps itself in his absolute panic, turning it both deeper and louder, less like a scared little boy’s voice and more like a voice that forces others to pay attention. It crashes through the room, and even Remus falls silent as it erupts. 

Paranoia goes quiet, and his chest rises and falls with heightening speed as he realizes that both Remus and Deceit are staring at him, both of them bewildered, and oh God, what did he just do? How did he do that? Did he make them angry? Did he make them think he was a freak? Oh, God, he was a freak, he shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have done that -- 

He tenses as Deceit’s bewilderment turns into an angry frown, and he stomps towards the two of them. Paranoia throws his hands up to protect his face, but instead of going for him, Deceit grabs Remus by the collar of his shirt and yanks him upward. 

“This is exactly why I told you to stay out of here.” Deceit says, his voice turning to more of a hiss, and Paranoia can’t tell if that’s intentional or not. “We’re playing a dangerous game already with me coming here alone to bring him to our side without alerting the others. I did not need you to come in here and set off the damn alarms!” 

“I was just having a bit of fun!” Remus insists, and manages to wriggle out of Deceit’s grasp. He points towards Paranoia, and tilts his head at an unnatural angle, the smile still wide on his face. “He’s the one who couldn’t handle it!” 

Paranoia hugs his arms tighter around himself as he watches the two of them, his entire body shaking as he can only begin to imagine what sort of thing Deceit would fear being discovered by. Whatever it was, it was apparently on the way, and it was Paranoia’s fault. Of course it was his fault, he’s the one who did...whatever that was. What would happen if Deceit ended up deciding that Paranoia wasn’t worth whatever risk he was talking about? He’d known Remus for longer, right? At least, that was how it seemed. Deceit would take Remus’ side over Paranoia’s, of course he would. Deceit would leave Paranoia here to die at the hands of the...others, whoever they were. 

To his surprise, though, Deceit doesn’t even look at Paranoia. Instead, he slaps Remus’ hand down, and keeps his eyes locked on him. 

“Do you want those foolish Sides to show up here and ruin everything?” Deceit takes a step towards Remus, and reaches forward, grabbing the front of his shirt tightly. “If they show up here, they will discover him. They will discover what he is, and they will take him away, and we will have lost.  _ Again _ .”

Without warning, four more arms suddenly appear, sprouting from Deceit’s torso and shoulders, and Paranoia can’t help but shriek as the teenager who seemed so human just moments ago turns into an unrecognizable creature. Three of the new arms grab Remus to keep him from escaping Deceit’s grasp a second time, and the fourth takes his chin, forcing him to look Deceit directly in the eyes. 

“I will not lose again because of your... _ antics _ .” Deceit says, and his voice is terrifyingly steady and slow, with practiced venom behind it. “Do. You. Understand?” 

To Paranoia’s surprise and horror, Remus just laughs. 

“You know I love it when you get all serious with me. And the extra arms, too? Are you trying to turn me on, or is that just a nice side effect?” 

Deceit’s glow flares suddenly as he grits his teeth, and Paranoia flinches in the corner, raising his hands up to shield his eyes from both the light and the sight in front of him. 

Not two seconds after he does that, though, the glow fades. Paranoia looks up to see Deceit looking right at him, and his eyes lock with Deceit’s. Deceit’s angry, anyone with half a brain can see that, but Paranoia watches as Deceit closes his eyes and takes a breath, rolling his shoulders back. When he opens his eyes again, it’s like he’s a different person. He’s calm again. Cool. Collected. Prepared with a plan, or maybe a mask.

He keeps his eyes on Paranoia as he suddenly lets Remus go, the extra arms disappearing and changing Deceit back into a human figure. Remus collapses to the floor, and for the first time, he frowns. 

“Hey, that’s not how this game is supposed to go--!” He says, but freezes as he notices how Deceit’s staring at Paranoia, and how Paranoia is shivering, staring back. A smile slowly spreads back over his face. “Oh, I get it. He’s--” 

“ _ Leave _ .” Deceit says, and to Paranoia’s surprise, Remus takes a step back, with his hands raised in mock surrender. 

“Fine, fine. Have it your way. I guess I will enjoy having a new little brother to try out all my fun little tricks on!” He says, and he turns to look at Paranoia. “Welcome to the family, Paranoia.” 

He cackles as he sinks out of the room, disappearing through the floor. The second he’s gone, Paranoia feels like he can breathe again, despite the fact that Remus’ final words to him send a chill down his spine and goosebumps over his arms. 

Deceit sighs, and straightens his cape over his shoulders. 

“Well, that could have gone better, but we must be going now, Paranoia. Now that you’ve unfortunately shown off your little party trick, the others are sure to be aware of your presence. They’ll be here soon.” 

He reaches his hand out for Paranoia to take, but Paranoia doesn’t move a muscle. 

“You work with him.” Paranoia says. Even with how brief their encounter was, Remus unnerved him in a way that he never wants to feel again. Paranoia can already tell that Remus is unpredictable, and an unpredictable nature is one that Paranoia is deathly afraid of. If he’s unpredictable, how is Paranoia supposed to know what to expect, what to be ready for, what to make sure Thomas is safe from?

Deceit’s neutral expression twitches just slightly, and he crouches in front of him again. It’s surprising how easily Deceit can make him feel small, even when he gets close to his eye level. 

“You’re wary of Remus. It’s understandable.” He says. “Not many take to him. He can be a bit...much. But do you know how he came to be that way?” 

Paranoia quietly shakes his head. 

“The others got to him.” Deceit says, and Paranoia’s blood runs cold. “See, there are other Sides aside from just you, me, and Remus. They call themselves the Light Sides, but don’t let that misnomer fool you. They reject anything that doesn’t fit into their perfect vision of what’s best for Thomas. Remus used to be a part of Creativity. They...well, I’m sure you can imagine what sorts of things they did to him to try to fix him, and how much good all of their ‘fixing’ did him.”

Paranoia’s throat goes dry. Oh, yes, he can imagine. He can imagine all too well. The idea that Remus was only a fraction of creativity was enough to make him wonder what sorts of things the Light Sides put him through. He imagines himself, strapped down to a metal chair, being poked and prodded at by figures of people glowing so brightly it hurt to look at them. He imagines the figures isolating what’s wrong with him, he imagines being torn apart, how that must feel like. He imagines the pain, how he would desperately try to hold onto himself but that whatever the Sides did to him was unstoppable, that he would be pulled from his own mind as he tried so hard to hold onto it, and the figures of light would watch and wait until he was just like them, just a glowing figure who smiled when they wanted him to and pulled other sides along with him when the time came, he imagines --

“Paranoia.” 

Paranoia snaps out of his thoughts again to find Deceit’s hand on his shoulder. He’s breathing is evening out, but based on how quickly his heart is racing, he guesses he was hyperventilating. 

“I need you to listen to me. Can you listen to me?” Deceit asks, and Paranoia nods without even thinking about it. “I want what’s best for you. I want to help you be your own person. If the Light Sides find you here, they will discover who you are, and they will take you away, and you will never return. Do you understand me?” 

Deceit’s voice has changed entirely by now, to something soft and kind and unlike the monster who stood in his place not five minutes earlier, even though there’s still that hidden lilt to it that suggests there’s more behind it than meets the ear. Paranoia knows he should feel unnerved by that, but oddly enough, he doesn’t. Deceit, so far, has been nothing but answers and security, two things that Paranoia’s blindly grasping for. 

“You are a weaker side, I can feel it.” Deceit says. “It’s a pity, but they will not care. They will use that against you. They will try and take you because they believe it will be easy, or because they believe that you are inconsequential, another little Side to add to their numbers. But I can protect you. I can keep you safe from their treachery. And, if that’s not enough for you, well, I believe that together, we can achieve your goal of keeping Thomas’...newest little secret under wraps.”

Paranoia’s heart lurches. Deceit knows, then. Deceit knows why Paranoia’s even strong enough to show up as a Side in the first place. And he’s willing to help. 

“So, what do you say, Paranoia?” Deceit asks, and extends a gloved hand towards him. 

Deceit was there from the start. Deceit has been careful to warn him about the dangers of the other Sides. Deceit took Paranoia’s side over Remus’. Deceit wants to protect him. 

Deceit wants to help him protect Thomas. 

And it always comes back to Thomas. 

Slowly, very slowly, Paranoia reaches forward and takes Deceit’s hand, and Deceit smirks. 

“Very good choice.” 

He helps to pull Paranoia to his feet, and Paranoia stumbles as he stands for the first time. He’s lanky in an awkward way, but the top of his head only reaches up to Deceit’s eyes. Perhaps he will always end up feeling smaller in Deceit’s presence. 

Paranoia clings to Deceit’s cape as he struggles to gain his footing, and Deceit rolls his eyes. 

“Honestly, Paranoia, if you can’t even  _ stand _ on your own, we’ve got a lot more work to do than I--”

Deceit doesn’t get to finish his sentence, another Side suddenly rises up in front of them, glowing a bright blue color. Paranoia screams, and Deceit doesn’t even make a sound before he sweeps Paranoia behind him, shielding him instantly. Paranoia doesn’t question it, and curls his fingers into the back of Deceit’s cape, his fingers shaking. He’s completely blocked by Deceit, and yet, he can still see the blue light shining through the room, much more brilliantly than Deceit’s glow, or even Remus’. It almost hurts to look at, after spending so much time in dim light. Deceit doesn’t even have to tell him, he knows what this means. 

Light Side. 

“Hello? Anybody in here? We all felt a new presence, but you seem pretty distressed, kiddo--” 

The voice cuts off, and Paranoia can only assume the Light Side has finally noticed Deceit. 

“Deceit?”

The way he says it makes Paranoia hesitate. The Light Side, whoever he is, sounds more concerned than angry. The Light Side, in fact, sounds more human than anything else. Is that some kind of technique? A trap, designed to lure any new Sides into a false sense of security about the Light Sides? Paranoia tightens his grip on Deceit’s cape as curiosity gets the better of him, and very quickly, peeks out from behind Deceit. 

He’s expecting a monster, based on how Deceit described him. He’s expecting a being with cold eyes and stiff movements, a person who focuses on perfection to the point where it’s suffocating. Instead, what he sees is a boy no older than Deceit. He’s wearing a pair of glasses that have slid down his nose, his hair is a curly mess, and freckles are sprinkled over his cheeks. He’s holding a plate of cookies in his hands, but he falters as he looks at Deceit, and Paranoia haf-expects the plate to fall out of his hands. 

He certainly doesn’t look like a monster. 

“Patton.” Deceit says, and Paranoia doesn’t even need to look at Deceit’s face to know that he’s smirking. Whoever this Light Side is, it’s clear to Paranoia that Deceit isn’t afraid of him in the slightest, and Paranoia is more than happy to let Deceit stand between him and the Light Side. 

_ Please, keep your promise and protect me.  _

The Light Side, Patton, notices Paranoia, and his eyes widen as he looks at him. There’s a faint flash of recognition behind Patton’s eyes that terrifies Paranoia, and Patton quickly turns his gaze back to Deceit’s. When he speaks again, his voice is full of a desperate sort of terror. 

“Wait, Deceit,  _ please _ , he’s just a child, you can’t --!”

Paranoia doesn’t get to hear the end of that sentence, because Deceit grabs his arm, and the two of them disappear from the room. The last glimpse Paranoia gets of Patton is him with his arm outstretched, reaching for him. 

Or maybe he was reaching for both of them. 

Paranoia gasps as the world rights itself, and he and Deceit pop into a different room. This one is much more complex than Paranoia’s own small room -- it’s large, and basically everywhere Paranoia looks is covered in golden accents, but it’s not a shiny gold. It looks that way from afar, but when Paranoia takes a closer look, it only shines from certain angles. Fool’s gold.

“I would have liked to get out of there without a run-in with Patton.” Deceit grumbles, and absentmindedly brushes off his shirt. “But no matter. We have more important things to attend to.” 

“We do?” Paranoia asks, turning his attention back to Deceit. His heart rate’s still going too fast for his own liking. Despite how kind he seemed, Patton was still a Light Side, and the fact that one had gotten so close to Paranoia is terrifying. 

“You truly don’t understand what’s going on here, do you?” Deceit says, and raises an eyebrow. Paranoia hesitates at the disapproval in Deceit’s stare, and hugs his arms around himself. “They know about you now. They will try and get you to go with them. They will think that you will be easy to subdue. They will play their games to get to you, and they will not stop until they have you with them.” 

A shudder runs through Paranoia at that thought, and he gets the sudden urge to run away, to hide, to cower in a tiny corner where no one can find him. 

Before he gets very far with that thought, though, Deceit’s holding his chin again, forcing him to look up at him. 

“Now, now. Don’t give up just yet. I promised I’d protect you, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.” Deceit has a confident smirk over his face, the kind that reminds Paranoia of a child bully who’s finally gotten his victim to cry. “The true question is, do you trust me?” 

The question bounces around in Paranoia’s mind. Does he trust Deceit? His fear tells him absolutely not. His fear reminds him of what deceit means, how he can never truly trust a Side who’s very nature is to lie, is to seek out lies and see straight through them. However, his fear also tells him to trust him. His fear reminds him of Deceit’s kindness, how Deceit sought him out, how he warned him and protected him and gave him the answers he wanted. Without Deceit, where will Paranoia even go? Without Deceit, who will be there to protect him? Without Deceit, how quickly will the Light Sides catch up to him? 

Paranoia swallows his nerves, and nods. 

“...yes.” 

The smile that comes over Deceit’s face is the widest one yet, and he lets go of Paranoia’s chin. He takes a step back, and extends his hand towards him one more time. 

“Well, then. Let’s go turn that fear into something they won’t dare to trifle with.” 


	2. The Panic Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton...can't escape. 
> 
> Why can't Patton escape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey howdy hey i'm back again with some more of this
> 
> i'm planning on doing more for this story as well, but i just started college, and hoo boy, college throws a lot of crazy shit at you, so i'll get stuff out when i can, but don't expect frequent updates? ...sorry
> 
> anyways enjoy some patton panic hours

The moment Deceit sinks out, pulling the terrified new Side along with him, Patton doesn’t even think before he tries to follow. He doesn’t know exactly where Deceit’s planning on taking the Side, but he can make an obvious guess that it’ll be somewhere in the darker corners of the Mindscape, and those are relatively small. Thomas doesn’t have a lot of darkness crowding his mind, they’re honestly lucky for that, and Patton can sweep the area pretty fast if he tries--

But he’s not going to be searching for anything, because as he tries to sink out, his feet slam into solid ground. 

Patton stares at his feet for a few seconds, and tries again. And again. And again, no, no no _no_ , he _didn’t_ , Deceit _wouldn’t_ \-- 

God, of course Deceit blocked off the darkness. It was almost too obvious, wasn’t it? Patton had been checking up on Thomas already when the new Side first appeared. Thomas had been panicking in a way Patton had never seen him panic before, and then, all of a sudden, he calmed down like nothing had happened at all. That should have been Patton’s first clue that Deceit was planning something, but he wasn’t smart like Logan was, he didn’t think ahead like that, and now? Now, he couldn’t get to the Dark Side. He couldn’t help that new Side, that new Side that looked so terrified, _Patton couldn’t help him and it was all because he hadn’t been fast enough_ \--

Patton wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to do a little bit of both, but he won’t. Of course he won’t. Thomas is finally calm, he’s finally asleep, and Patton screaming and crying makes Thomas do the same if it goes on for long enough. Patton can’t be responsible for that. 

Instead, he settles for sliding down the wall of the tiny room to the floor, and pulls his knees to his chest. He’s practiced at shoving his unacceptable emotions down to where they can’t ever be found, to the point where it doesn’t even take that much out of him to do anymore. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and forces himself to think positively. 

Only this time, nothing happens.

His emotions don’t push down the way they usually do. If anything, they get worse, to the point where Patton has to choke back a sob to keep it from escaping. 

What? This shouldn’t be happening. He’s done this a million times before, why can’t he do it now? Is there something wrong with him? Oh, god, did Deceit do something to him so that he’d break down? Could Deceit do something like that? Patton didn’t know, they didn’t tend to keep tabs on Deceit as much anymore, he’d made a habit of sticking to the dark side, and god, that’s why Patton wasn’t expecting him, that’s why he got away, that’s why that new Side is trapped -- 

“Patton?” 

Patton jerks his head up at the familiar sound of Logan’s voice. He hadn’t even heard Logan enter the room, or noticed his deep blue glow illuminating the walls of the tiny closet of a room. That was bad enough on its own without mentioning the fact that Patton can feel tears rolling down his cheeks. Oh, god, he’s _crying_ , when had he started crying? 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder -- are you crying?” Logan asks, and for some reason, that only makes Patton want to break down further. “Why are you on the floor? What happened?” 

“I...” Patton quickly wipes the tears away from his eyes, but it feels like not even a second goes by before more have come to replace them. “I don’t know, I came by to check on that...that new Side we felt, and then…” 

“Wait.” Logan suddenly cuts him off, and kneels down in front of him to get a better look at his face. He squints. “Patton, what is wrong with your eyes?” 

“My eyes?” Patton asks, and reaches up to brush his tears away again. “I...I don’t know, but I can’t stop crying, and--”

“Not that, though I will admit, that is also puzzling. You do not often cry if you can help it, despite your insistent dependence on emotions.” Logan says, and there’s a curious sort of look in eyes that he only gets when he truly is stumped. “I mean to say that it appears as though you have incredibly dark circles underneath your eyes. Have you been getting enough sleep lately?” 

“I...think so?” Patton says, a brand new wave of confusion overcoming him, quickly followed by panic. Dark circles? 

“You know I do not do well with assumptions, Patton, I need you to be certain.” Logan says, and Patton notices a strange kind of waver enter his voice. It’s subtle, but it’s definitely there. “When have you been going to bed, when have you been waking up, I need _numbers_ \--” 

“I don’t have numbers, but I know I definitely didn’t have weird dark circles under my eyes when I looked in the mirror this morning, Logan! They can’t just appear, can they? Is there something wrong with me? Did De--” 

Patton is immediately halted as his own hand comes up to slap over his mouth, keeping him from finishing the name. 

Right. Blocked. 

Luckily, Logan is anything but stupid, and Patton doesn’t even need to finish it for Logan’s eyes to widen incredulously. 

“He was _here_?” 

Patton nods, and reaches up to grab his own hand, wrenching it away from his mouth. 

“I came in to see if the new Side needed help, because you know, we haven’t had a new one in so _long_ , and I know you and Roman could feel it a little, but emotions are all on me, and he felt so _scared_ , Logan, I couldn’t just _leave_ him here, and when I showed up, _he_ was already here, and--” 

Patton chokes on his words again, and he can’t help it, he buries his face in his hands. Patton’s certain that if Thomas is still asleep, his tears are definitely driving Roman crazy -- he hates it when the dreams he works so hard on get twisted into something sad or terrifying. 

Logan’s oddly quiet, and if Patton were paying attention, he’d probably be able to practically hear the gears turning in Logan’s head. He can see Logan’s dark blue glow out of the corner of his eye, though, and he can tell that Logan stands up as it shifts.

“...it certainly is odd.” He says, and Patton glances up at him, despite his tears making his vision blurry. Logan’s looking around the room like it’s something much more interesting than the small, square, completely black room that it is. “You said you found the Side here?” 

Slowly, Patton nods, even though just the mention of the new Side alone makes him want to burst into tears all over again. What on Earth was _happening_ \--

“And you did not start to experience this extreme emotional instability until you entered this room, correct?” Logan asks, and it’s subtle, but Patton can hear that strange tone to Logan’s voice again, only this time, it sounds like he’s desperately trying to hold it back. His hands are clasped tightly together, like he’s trying to keep them restrained. 

Patton nods, and he can almost feel the puzzle pieces trying to click together in his head, but his jumbled emotions are making it difficult to latch on to any semblance of thought at all. Thankfully, Logan’s here for that. 

“Interesting. It stands to conclude that something about this room is causing this emotional instability, and that the best way to resolve this inner conflict would be to leave immediately.” 

“But I can’t!” Patton exclaims, loud and sudden enough to make Logan jump, and mutter something unintelligible under his breath. “I already tried, when I tried to sink out my feet hit the floor and I couldn’t get through--” 

“Patton. Patton, look at me. Where were you trying to go?” Logan asks, staring directly at him, and Patton blanches as he meets Logan’s eyes. Logan’s still, yes, aside from his hands, which have started shaking, but everything about his expression seems to shout that he’s calm. Except he’s not. There’s a panic in his eyes that Patton knows he’s never seen before from Logan. Honestly, Patton’s way more focused on that than he is on the faint-but-definitely-there dark circles that have appeared under Logan’s eyes. 

It scares him so bad, in fact, that he doesn’t even register that he hasn’t answered the question until Logan leans forward to snap his fingers right in Patton’s face. 

“ _Patton_!” 

“Ah, loud noises!” Patton can’t help it, he clamps his hands over his ears. It was so loud, god, why was everything so loud right now, it was too much, he could barely hear himself think over all the noise, he wanted to scream just so he could be heard--

And then, all of a sudden, everything stops. 

The compulsory need to cry, the panic in his chest, the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears, all of it is gone. He’s curled himself into a tight ball, holding his knees to his chest and hiding his face, and he finally lets himself relax, his grip loosening just slightly. 

“-- _honestly_ , the two of you _bursting_ in on me when I’ve total you a _million_ times before, I can’t create a _masterpiece_ of a dream if I’m not _focusing_ \--”

“He was in an inconsolable panic, Roman. If you would rather have me leave him in a room that very clearly has some sort of strong negative effect on emotion, I can gladly take him back and leave him in there to go insane.”   
“That’s not what I meant and you know it, you _insufferable, heartless know-it-all_ -” 

“Even I was beginning to feel the effects, and I am in no way connected to emotions. I am certain that if we were to spend even a minute longer in that room, neither of us would be standing here at all. This was the first place I could think of, and it was not as if I was in a position to stop and consider every option of where to go.” 

Patton lifts his head just a little to find himself back in the living room, sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Logan and Roman are standing a few feet away, and while Logan’s stoic as ever, Roman’s eyebrows are furrowed together, shooting a death glare in Logan’s direction. He glares at him for a few more seconds, but he sighs, looks away, and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Fine. Whatever, I get it, I guess.” He mutters. “But I still don’t understand. A room that can put Patton totally out of commission doesn’t sound helpful at _all_ . How’s a Side with a room like _that_ supposed to help Thomas -- oh, hey, Patton!” 

Logan turns around when Roman finally notices that Patton’s awake, and Patton gives a weak sort of wave. 

“Hi.” 

“Are you alright, Patton?” Logan asks. 

“Yeah, how’s it goin’, padre?” Roman echoes. “You looked paler than Snow White when Specs dragged you in here.” 

“I...think I’m okay?” Patton shrugs, taking note of the annoyed glare Logan shoots Roman’s way at the nickname. He lets go of his knees and brings his hand up to rub his forehead. He’s alright, yes, but his head feels oddly fuzzy. “What happened?”

“I had to forcefully pull you along with me when I sank out of the room.” Logan explains. “You were insistent on the fact that you could not do it yourself, for some reason, but the longer we stayed there, the worse your panic became. There was no other choice.”

Oh. Well, that would explain the headache. Sinking out was nothing when he did it on his own, but being forcefully dragged out of a room by another Side wasn’t exactly fun. 

“Oh. Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out so bad-- did the dreams go okay, Roman?” Patton asks, and he can’t help but cringe internally as Roman scowls, turning his gaze to the floor. 

“I had to shut it off. Went dreamless for the night, emotions were too strong.” Roman says, and oh, god, Patton knows how much Roman hates going dreamless, even for one night. Patton must’ve affected things way worse than he’d initially thought.

“It’s not your fault, Patton.” Logan says, as if he can read Patton’s mind -- he probably can. Patton tends to wear his heart on his sleeve, after all. “Something about that room caused you to have some kind of extreme fear-oriented response tied to emotion, it’s only natural that you spiraled. What I do not understand is why you would think that you couldn’t sink out of the room, when you clearly could...maybe the room is tied to some form of irrationality...” 

Patton sucks in a sharp breath as Logan keeps talking, mostly to himself, trying to figure it out, and Roman leans against the wall with a sigh, prepared to be in this for the long haul. Thing is, Patton can remember exactly why he’d panicked so bad about not being able to sink out, and it’s kind of easy to see how a room designed to bring out fear would get it jumbled in his head. 

“He blocked them off.” Patton says, effectively cutting Logan off. 

“What?” 

“De--” Patton’s cut off as his own hand comes up to cover his mouth, and Roman suddenly stands up a little straighter, now totally alert. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Roman says, as Patton moves to pull his hand away from his own mouth. “ _Again?_ Look, usually I’d be happy to know that freaky snake is blocking himself, but why now? He’s done barely anything for _months_ \--” 

“It’s not just himself.” Patton says. “He took the new Side with him. I tried to get to the Dark Side in general, but I couldn’t sink out. He’s blocked all of them.” 

Roman goes rigid, the same way he always does when they start talking about all of the _others_ , and Patton feels that all-too-familiar twinge of guilt, but he pushes it down. 

“That is...troubling.” Logan says, and he has that look on his face that Patton knows means that he’s got a theory, but whatever it is, it’s not good news. “If he blocked all of them, including the new one, he must expect us to come chasing after him. He is doing everything in his power to keep us away from this new Side.” 

“Okay, but why?” Roman asks, and he already sounds fed up. “If the new Side was supposed to be with them, then he could go with him. No skin off our backs, y’know? Besides, if he belongs with them, then he can stay over there, as far as I’m concerned. The others freak me out.” 

“I don’t think he was...supposed to be with them.” Patton says. He only saw the new Side for a split second, but he could feel what he was feeling, and it didn’t feel malicious, the way the others usually did. He just felt...scared. “But I don’t think he was supposed to be with us, either? I mean, we would have all felt it way stronger if he was supposed to be with us, right?” 

“Well, if he’s not supposed to be with us, and he’s not supposed to be with them, where’s he supposed to be, Patton?” Roman asks, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously, it’s not like there’s anywhere else for him to go.” 

“Where he was meant to be is a purely hypothetical situation.” Logan cuts in. “Can we please focus on what is happening at this very moment, instead of wasting time reflecting on what may have happened? Because what is happening now is that the others have managed to catch a brand new Side, one with a room that resonates enough power to cause even me to act with extreme irrationality, and in the worst case scenario, may be enough to drive any emotional Side to inconsolable insanity within minutes.” 

“Okay, fine, Poindexter.” Roman sighs. “So what exactly does that mean for us?” 

“It means that the others have a new player on their team. A particularly powerful one, if the evidence holds up.” Logan says, and there’s a grim look on his face. 

“And I believe that spells trouble for all of us.”


	3. Training with Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paranoia's getting used to things -- or, at least, he's trying to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and she's alive!! 
> 
> yeah so i know i haven't updated in a while, and i can't promise i'm gonna be better at it (executive dysfunction shouldn't be an excuse but my god it is a bitch to fight with), but i'm trying to combat my awful procrastination by doing the #marchusannus challenge! every day i'm doing at least one productive thing, so hopefully i'll get some more writing done in that time :) thanks for being patient with my dumbass self, and i hope you enjoy the chapter!!

It’s too much. 

Paranoia has collapsed on the floor, his hands frantically clamped over his ears and his eyes squeezed tightly shut, but neither of those things are stopping the way he can feel bugs crawling over his skin -- no, it’s hands, frozen fingers grabbing at his hoodie and yanking -- no, it’s an intense burning heat rising up around him, he’s burning  _ alive _ \-- 

“ _ Paranoia~.. _ .” That voice cuts directly through his head again, and Paranoia grits his teeth, and it’s a good thing his nails are bitten down to the stubs already. With how tightly he’s gripping the sides of his head, he’s certain he’d have drawn blood by now. “ _ Not giving up already, are you? Come on, we’re just getting started! How about carving pretty patterns into your arms? _ ” 

Paranoia feels the sharp, precise blades sink into his arms right as he hears that maniacal laugh in his ears. It hurts, and he can’t feel anything but metal and his heartbeat, and he wants to make it stop,  _ make it stop,  _ **_make it stop_ ** \--

Paranoia unleashes a scream that rips out of his lungs, and it thunders through the room in harsh waves, tearing down the illusion. It’s all gone -- the blades in his arms, the flames scarring his legs, the hands pulling at him, the bugs crawling over his skin, all of it. Paranoia’s eyes fly open, and he slowly pushes himself up so he’s sitting on his knees. He looks around the room again to remember where he is -- back in the dimly lit hallway that connects all of the rooms in the Dark Side together. 

Paranoia hates it here. It somehow feels claustrophobic and vast at the same time, and there are various places where random piles of debris lay, haphazardly thrown in to make easy hiding places for anything and anyone. But he hasn’t learned how to properly sink out of rooms yet, or how to pop into others, so until he gets a hang of that, he has to deal with this. Has to deal with  _ him _ . As Paranoia suspected, Remus is standing behind an overturned pile of cardboard boxes, now visible as he stands at his full height. He looks almost bored as he leans against the wall.

“Aww, boo. We were just starting to have some real fun.” Remus pouts, and Paranoia glares at him. He opens his mouth to say something, to try and defend himself, but before he can, his own hand raises up and slaps over his mouth. 

Oh, _ figures _ . 

“Now, Paranoia, you should know by now that retorting will only make him worse.” Deceit’s voice speaks up behind him, and Paranoia can see the deceptively soft yellow glow creeping up the walls before he even turns his head. Deceit has a stopwatch in his gloved hand, and he’s focusing more on it than he is on Paranoia. He turns it towards Paranoia, and Paranoia feels a cold, stopwatch-sized stone drop into his gut. He should have guessed. 

“Three minutes and forty five seconds.” Deceit says, and closes a fist around the stopwatch, letting it disappear back into nothingness. “Not your best.”

“You can’t just sic him on me in the middle of the hallway and expect it to go well.” Paranoia retorts, his voice as defiant as he ever dares to get. This sort of thing has been happening for the few weeks since he became a Side -- Deceit is fascinated by the trick Paranoia can pull off with his voice, and keeps throwing him into situations to try and pull it out of him. Test his limits. See how long it takes. How powerful it is. How far it will take him. 

And, of course, Remus is all too happy to offer assistance. 

“Ooh, I just love it when he talks back.” Remus says, and Paranoia can hear the sadistic grin in his voice. “There’s a lil’ rebel in there somewhere, isn’t there? Wonder if I can drag him to the surface, maybe he’d be willing to play along instead of crying all my games away--” 

“You have to learn to expect it from anywhere, at any time.” Deceit says, speaking overtop of Remus. He always has a way of commanding attention, even when competing with Remus’ more disturbing images. “If you think those others will be willing to play fair with you, you have another thing coming--” 

“I already expect it from everywhere!” Paranoia shouts, and his power doesn’t show itself, but he can feel Deceit’s slight recoil of surprise. Paranoia's surprising himself, really, but it’s been weeks, and really, he probably won’t be able to take much more of this. “I jump when I see a shadow move an inch, okay? I just want to be able to walk down the  _ hall _ without something suddenly jumping out and giving me a heart attack!” 

Deceit’s look of surprise melts away as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a disappointed kind of frown. 

“Do you even want this, Paranoia?” Deceit asks, and he leans forward just slightly. Any semblance of defiance Paranoia felt immediately disappears as he suddenly goes back to feeling like he’s three inches tall under that stare. “Because you’re not acting like it.”

“He’s acting like a little sissy, that’s what he’s acting like!” Remus chimes in, grinning like a particularly demented Cheshire Cat. “Look at him, cowering on the floor. He looks like an itsy-bitsy little spider that you could squash  _ flat _ , Dee--”

“Enough, Remus.” Deceit says, and doesn’t even glance at Remus for a second. It’s a clear dismissal, and even Remus can take a hint from time to time. Paranoia wishes Deceit would look at Remus, though, and take his eyes off of him for even a moment. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he was trapped under a microscope. “You do realize that I can’t keep you blocked forever, right? Eventually, Thomas is going to need you, and if you’re not there when he does, we could end up in a load of trouble.” 

“I know…” Paranoia mumbles, and he can’t bring himself to meet Deceit’s eyes. 

“If you can’t do your Tempest Tongue on command when I pull down the barrier, you won’t stand a chance against the Light Sides.” Deceit says, and a familiar chill runs down Paranoia’s spine as his stomach twists. 

Coming face-to-face with the Light Sides all by himself. If the idea alone makes his hands shake, he can’t even begin to imagine what it will be like facing it in reality.

“Ooh, now there’s a sight I’d  _ love _ to see.” Remus pipes up again, and Deceit rolls his eyes, but doesn’t interrupt him this time. When Paranoia looks up, Remus is already right in front of him with that sickening grin, and taps his nose with his finger.

“I know for a fact that my brother dearest and all his little friends would  _ so  _ not approve of you. They’d pull you apart like it was nothing. Be a  _ shame _ if that happened before you even got your name. ” 

Paranoia cringes as Remus mentions his name, and scoots backwards, putting as much distance between him and Remus as he can manage before his back hits a wall. 

One thing on the very,  _ very _ long list of things that makes Paranoia’s stomach churn is what his name will be. Deceit had told him soon after he’d brought him to this side of Thomas’ mind how the whole name thing worked -- which is to say that none of them really did understand it, not even the Light Sides. It typically would just come to them, seemingly out of nowhere, but it usually seemed to happen when they were secure in themselves, when they knew exactly who they were as Sides and knew how to handle whatever powers they possessed and how to do their job. At that point, their name would come to them, and when Paranoia had asked how they knew it was their name, Deceit had rolled his eyes. 

_ You just know. It clicks, in a way. You’ll understand. _

“Aww, little scaredy-kitty afraid of that?” Remus mocks, and Paranoia resists the urge to hiss at him. It had gotten him to back off the first time, but it also spawned “scaredy-kitty” as one of many mocking nicknames. “You afraid of being pulled apart from yourself until you’ve got yourself a pretty, perfect little twin brother while you’re left behind in the shattered mirror? Because let me tell you, Paranoia, you feel every little inch tearing, piece by piece, atom by atom, and mm, does it  _ hurt _ .” 

“Stop it.” Deceit intervenes just as Paranoia moves to clap his hands over his ears. 

“What?” Remus asks, and instead of turning around to face Deceit, he throws his head back, unnaturally twisting his neck to look at him. He does it like it’s completely natural, and Deceit isn’t fazed, but Paranoia slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle the squeak of discomfort that escapes him (at least it’s his choice this time). “Oh, come on, I’m just having a bit of  _ fun _ , Dee, don’t be such a buzzkill!” 

“And you certainly haven’t had enough fun all day.” Deceit says dryly. “It’s not as though I’ve allowed you to play out all your twisted fantasies for  _ weeks _ on end, just because it will help Paranoia learn how to control his powers.” 

“Exactly!” Remus cackles. Deceit sighs, and reaches forward to forcefully shove Remus’ head forward, seemingly not bothered by the inhuman cracking noise as Remus’ neck rights itself, and Remus yelps in protest. 

“You’re absolutely insatiable.” Deceit mutters, and any annoyance Remus felt at Deceit fixing his party trick immediately melts away as he giggles. 

“In so many ways.” 

Deceit ignores him this time, and instead, turns his stare back towards Paranoia. Paranoia shrinks further back against the wall, and doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare at the way his black sneakers nearly blend into the carpet in the dim light. He hates the fear that settles in his stomach -- Deceit has yet to give him a reason to be truly afraid of him (except for the arm thing, but he’s never directed that directly at Paranoia -- not  _ yet _ , anyway), and yet it feels like a stone drops in his gut every single time he looks at him like that. 

“Look at me, Paranoia.” Deceit says, and Paranoia slowly raises his head, just barely meeting his eyes. Deceit doesn’t look angry, but he does look disappointed, and Paranoia can’t decide which is worse. “You know why we’re doing this, right?” 

Paranoia slowly nods. He does know. Deceit’s trying to help him, he’s trying to get him to the point where he can handle the Light Sides by himself. Paranoia can’t expect Deceit to always be able to swoop in and protect him the minute a Light Side shows up, or the second they try to stop him from protecting Thomas, and Paranoia definitely _ won’t  _ expect him to do that. Not when the worst-case scenario for everything is already constantly looming in the back of his mind. He got lucky that Deceit showed up before a Light Side did as it is. 

No, he understands that he needs to be ready. 

He just doesn’t like that getting ready means being plagued by nightmares for days at a time only makes the twisting, ugly feeling in his stomach get tighter, only makes the tremor in his hands harder to still. 

“I have to make Thomas listen to me.” Paranoia murmurs. “I can’t protect him if the others won’t let him listen to me.” 

“There you go.” Deceit says, and reaches a hand out towards him. “Come on, get up. No one’s going to listen to you if you’re too afraid to stand.” 

Paranoia still hesitates before taking his hand, but then again, Paranoia has a tendency to hesitate before pretty much anything. Deceit pulls him to his feet, and when he lets go of his hand, Paranoia reaches behind him to yank his hood up, tightening his grip in the fabric as he pulls it to hide his face. 

Deceit might be able to get him to stand up, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hide in different ways. 

Deceit sighs, and reaches forward, trying to push Paranoia’s hoodie back, but Paranoia keeps his grip tight. 

“Paranoia.” Deceit says, a harsh edge creeping into his words as he closes his hand around the edge of Paranoia’s hood. Paranoia tenses. “You have nothing to hide here. Don’t try and--” 

“It’s the one thing I’ve got, okay?” Paranoia says, and again, his voice doesn’t shrink, but bites back. He guesses it’s something to be thankful for. “I’ve gone along with literally everything you’ve asked, I know what’s at stake. It’s not going to kill me or you if I leave my stupid hood up.” 

Deceit furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, and before Paranoia can even flinch in preparation for whatever’s about to happen, the sound of a door handle turning at the end of the hall makes all three of them snap their heads to attention. Paranoia can feel his heart jump into his throat as he notices the bright blue glow seeping in through the cracks in the doorway. The same light from the day he appeared. 

_ Shit. _

“Speak of the angels and they shall appear.” Deceit mutters, and shoves past Paranoia to walk towards the door. “Both of you. Out. Now.” 

“Aww, I can’t say hi to Morality?” Remus asks, and Paranoia’s stomach twists as he watches Remus’ expression. He’s not afraid, not in the slightest, and while Paranoia is getting used to Remus grinning in the face of terror, there’s something darker behind his eyes this time. Vengeful. 

Paranoia has no intention of sticking around to see whatever is behind that look play out.

He turns to run back down the hall, to his own familiar door, but as he does, he feels a hand enclose around his ankle, yanking him backwards. He yelps as he hits the carpeted floor face-first, and counts himself lucky that he doesn’t break his nose. When he looks back, Remus’s arm looks almost dislocated, his hand still closed tightly around Paranoia’s ankle. That same darker grin is aimed in his direction now. 

“Gotcha.”

“Deceit?” Morality’s muffled voice comes through the door, and Deceit sends a downright murderous glare in Remus’ direction as Paranoia feels his blood run cold. He knows they’re here. 

Remus’s grin doesn’t drop as he sinks out, finally letting go of Paranoia’s ankle. Paranoia almost wishes he’d held on, dragged him out with him, but if he had to choose between facing a Light Side and facing Remus’ imagination alone…

Well, really, he’s not sure which is worse.

“Deceit, I know you’re in there.” Morality’s voice speaks again, accompanied by the sound of him jiggling the door handle in a futile attempt to get through. “I want to talk to you. I know you know what happened to that new Side.” 

Deceit’s stare turns to Paranoia with a sort of “I told you so” look as Paranoia as Paranoia breathing turns shallow. The Light Sides know about him. They know, and they’re looking for him. They’re going to find him, going to pull him back with them, tear him apart just like they did to Remus-- 

“And what about it?” Deceit retorts, finally giving up on the silent treatment. Paranoia’s eyes widen, briefly jolted from the whirlpool of thoughts crashing through his head by the shock. Deceit had promised. He’d promised he’d protect him, and now he was talking to the others about him? 

Paranoia glances back down the hallway. His door seems light-years away in comparison to how it seemed seconds ago, and he doesn’t have that kind of time before he needs to get out. And he can’t sink out, he’s tried, it doesn’t work for him yet. Instead, he scrambles to hide behind the same pile of cardboard boxes that Remus used for a hiding place. He curls into a tiny ball, pulls his hood further over his face, and prays that Deceit won’t let Morality in, that Morality won’t find him. _ Please, please, please-- _

“I just want to know what you did.” Morality’s voice says. “He’s new, Deceit, he’s just a child--”

“Because we’re not all children, in a way.” Deceit interrupts.

“You know what I mean, and you can’t be telling him all your lies about how all this works!” Morality says, and Paranoia can hear him catch himself. When he speaks again, it’s a kind of forced calm, but not the kind of forced calm that’s covering anger. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. He felt so scared when he popped in.” 

That makes Paranoia loosen his grip on his hood just slightly. Morality does sound worried, but why would he be worried about him? He’s Paranoia, he’s a Dark Side, and Deceit keeps telling him that he’s probably a lot weaker than he should be. The Light Sides should be thinking about how they could stomp him out with as little complications as possible, not worrying about his well being. It’s got to be some kind of trick. 

“Oh, of course. And I’m going to let you in because you’re concerned.” Deceit says. Paranoia’s surprised the sarcasm in it doesn’t drip onto the floor. “Funny, Patton, you’ve always been so _ very _ concerned with what happens over here.” 

“I’m--”

“The new Side is one of ours. You’ve always been such a big fan of the status quo, I would assume you’d prefer it if I took him back to where he belongs.” 

“But he didn’t feel like one of yours!” Morality insists, and that makes Paranoia snap his head up. What does that mean? “He didn’t feel dark to me--”

“Maybe you’re finally realizing that none of us are dark.” Deceit snaps, cutting him off in irritation. “We’re simply different is all. I’m  _ definitely _ going to let you in. Stay as long as you want.” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Morality says, but as Paranoia peeks his head over the cardboard boxes to watch what’s happening, he sees Deceit walking away from the door, ignoring Morality’s words. “He  _ is _ different, Deceit, you have to have felt it. I don’t think he’s like any of us, even Logan’s confused about it whenever I bring it up--”

“Come on, Paranoia.” Deceit says, quietly enough so that Morality won’t hear as he walks past Paranoia’s hiding spot. “You don’t need to be hearing all of this nonsense.”

He holds out his hand to Paranoia to help him up, and Paranoia still hesitates, though it doesn’t take as long anymore before he takes it. Deceit pulls him to his feet, and Paranoia lets him lead him down the hall, away from Morality and his words. He doesn’t even question it anymore. He knows by this point that it’s best to go wherever Deceit is leading him. He’s safety, he’s certainty, and he’s the only one who’s even tried to help Paranoia so far. 

And yet. 

Paranoia turns his head to look back at the door. He knows better than to ask Deceit about it, especially with how certain he seemed when he called Morality’s words ‘nonsense’, but a strange kind of curiosity has made its way into Paranoia’s gut, in a way that makes him feel a little sick. The Light Sides think he’s different. From all of them. They’re concerned. 

It has to be a trick. It has to be. A trick to lure him out from the safety of the barrier, to bring him over to the Light Side where they can catch him, poke and prod at him until they figure out what’s wrong with him and how they can fix it. That’s all it is, and he shouldn’t listen to them. 

Deceit stops by his door, and lets go of his hand. 

“Not so far, right?” He says. He knows, then. Why Paranoia slid behind those boxes instead of running. Paranoia shakes his head, and a rare smile comes over Deceit’s face. “Don’t worry. You won’t get the hang of sinking out for a long time.” 

Paranoia nods, and doesn’t wait around for any longer before he slips inside, closing the door tightly shut behind him. Deceit is probably the only person he’s really got around here, yes, but that doesn’t mean that he really, really needs to be by himself sometimes. In safety and familiarity. 

Paranoia takes a deep breath for what feels like the first time in hours as he turns back to face his room. It’s grown since he first appeared in it. It’s a little bigger than a broom closet now, and feels less like a hole leading to the void, and more like an actual safe space. He can see, for one thing. He lets out the deep breath in a sigh, and walks over to his bed that he managed to summon for himself a few days ago, the first time he’d summoned something bigger than himself. 

He flops down on the bed unceremoniously and pulls his legs to his chest as he looks around his room. It’s still dark, and he was right that first day -- spiderwebs are clinging to the walls, despite his inability to see any spiders. Still, he almost takes comfort in it now, rather than being afraid of them. He’s growing to not mind the dark, and spiders can be kind of cute, in their own way. 

He curls his fingers into his blankets. Exactly. He doesn’t mind the dark. He likes some things that Thomas is afraid of. He can force people to listen to him if he tries hard enough. He’s not different. Morality is trying to trick him. Morality doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Paranoia’s a Dark Side, just like Remus and Deceit. He’s a Dark Side. 

...right? 


End file.
